


magical

by spheeris1



Category: Killing Eve
Genre: F/F, Love, Thoughts & Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spheeris1/pseuds/spheeris1
Summary: Villanelle p.o.v. // drabble // post-S2 hypothetical // You have spent hours watching her and now she shimmers into view...





	magical

/ /

It's a magical kind of thing, isn't it? To see her standing in front of you, trusting you with something more precious than her body – you've had it now, you'll have it again – and you don't know love like others spell it. You don't know it by sweetness. You don't know it by kindness. You don't know love like that, but you know this...

...she spills over, cracked into pieces, and she has cut you open and now she's done it again to someone new, and you are giddy and you are on fire and were it not for gravity, you'd simply float away...

You spell love like Eve.

/ /

You have spent hours watching her and now she shimmers into view, your fingers wrapped around her wrists, and when she exhales, you try to take her breath into your own lungs.

The city is quiet outside, long past midnight, and there's one light still on because you never want to stop watching her. She meets your stare, unafraid, and you used to find that funny. You used to think she was stupid but in a gorgeous way. Then you used to find her clever but still easy to swat away, easy to play with. Now, you know better. She's taught you better.

You lower yourself slowly and she doesn't beg, doesn't rise up to meet you. She knows you are going to fall, your skin to her skin, and she knows how badly you ache, how much you need, how you just keep on needing her. And she is warm, always so warm, and you continue to shudder at that first touch – like you've never been fucked, like you've never felt devotion, like this is all so new – and then she says it.

Then she says it and it's a magical kind of thing, isn't it? The sound of her voice so close to your ear, confirmation of a million things in one word, and you both grapple with this desire, turn it over like your bodies shift and twist, and you slip into her and she takes another sliver of your soul with her nails digging into your back.

She could kill you now and you wouldn't care and then she says it, mutual moans bending about the room as her spine curves and you are shaking, you are shaking because this is too much, this is all too much, and she places her thigh between your legs, guides you, shows you, teaches you that too much is just enough, that this – the two of you, just like this – is finally enough and then you say it back to her.

“...yes...”

/ /

These plans were in motion, once you got yourself right again. Once the pain subsided. Once the money returned. Once you knew you could see her again. You set all of this in motion, not one for regrets or self-recriminations. 

Eve is asleep and you wake up every so often, rest your palm on her back or against the side of her face. And she twitches and then rolls into you, elbow into your ribs, and you smile into the darkness because she is forever hurting you when you aren't looking for it.

And now you must plan again. Find deeper holes to hide in. Erase names. Remove traces. You've got to go against your nature, for a while, and live quietly. Be more subtle. Be like some other killer you once both knew, left shattered in a forest somewhere.

Eve won't like it. She's so sharp and so angry. She's so alive and doesn't want to be in a box anymore. She's ready to unleash a torrent of pain, on former bosses and shadows alike, and the last thing you want to do is hold her back. You want to see her wild, want to see her cutting into everyone, want to see whose blood she'll draw next.

And yet – you study her mouth, parted with soft breathing, and you get lost in the strands of her hair, a dark river running off the pillow and onto your arm, and you silently hook your leg over hers and feel arousal and feel adoration and feel too much all over again and you squeeze your eyes shut and so you must plan again.

/ /

You wonder if she misses anything, if she wants to look back and see someone else in your place, if she sneaks away to make calls and see who might be still waiting for her return. You wonder when she'll ask about Niko, when she'll need to know about him, and when she'll find out about other things, too.

You wonder if she sees it all clearly, now that she's crossed so many lines and torn down so many pillars within herself. You wonder if she feels it with every second, all the spaces that she's now wiped clean with total and utter destruction, you wonder if she feels their absence as much as her relief.

You wonder how long this can last, this duck and cover scheme, this dangerous game of hide-and-go-seek, and you wonder if she can handle it, beyond the bliss that comes with giving in and letting go. 

_Eve, firm around your neck. Eve, teeth into your shoulder. Eve, a fine blade buried inside of you._

And you wonder how many scars she'll leave you with, when its all said and done, and you wonder if you'll just beg for more

/ /

It's a magical kind of thing. Isn't it?

All the feelings that others wished you had, ached for you to have, well, now they are flooding your system and absolutely wrecking you. When she tugs, you stop. When she laughs, you grow hot. When she pushes, you push back and she likes it. When you run, she follows. When you wound her, she turns it around on you tenfold. And when you look at her... 

Her lips are trailing downwards, taking her time when all you want to do is rush her, and the slap stings when it strikes your stomach and you fist the sheets and tell yourself that it'll be worth it, just wait, just wait. And her mouth is velvet, soft and decadent against you, and she holds your hips down, won't let you move and all the air in your body gets caught in your throat, strained and perfect, and her tongue is mesmerizing, conjuring up staccato heartbeats in your chest and a deep groan that reverberates along your bones. She is relentless, taking so much of you, taking and taking and taking until there's nothing left, just what she is giving you, just what she is letting you have and hold. And when permission is granted, allowing you to cup the back of her head and roll your hips and when she pulls you nearer, when she goes ever deeper, and your senses grow spacious and unfettered, you are so wonderfully close, and when you look at her...

...she sees all of you, everything written out so plainly, every wish and every horrible deed, every desperate longing she has built within you.

Eve sees you. Eve sees every single inch of you.

And you tumble over the edge, frantic and feverish, clutching to her as if the very earth will spin out of reach if you can't touch her, can't have her, can't find her every time you open your eyes.

And it's too much. And it's magical. And you wonder. And you smile. And you plan.

And you love.

/ / /

**[end]**

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of good music and missing my own lady as she is out of town. So here we are. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine. Cheers.


End file.
